


Dissociative

by Rebekah231



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, DCU (Comics)
Genre: Abuse, Angst, Control, Disturbing Themes, Frottage, M/M, Obsession, Obsessive Behavior, Secret Relationship, Teenage Rebellion, Underage - Freeform, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-05
Updated: 2019-05-05
Packaged: 2020-01-25 19:06:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18580729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rebekah231/pseuds/Rebekah231
Summary: “I hate it that I hurt you just for fun...”Dick Grayson is slipping from Bruce’s grasp, he won’t have that.





	Dissociative

The leather steering wheel melts into his calloused palms. There’s large, white houses and perfectly manicured lawns surrounding Bruce Wayne’s vision. This suburb, he’s heard of it, but there’s never been any interest to bring himself here. The neighborhood doesn’t resemble the morose skylines of urban Gotham, most likely because it borders New York, such an unsavory area. Some teens fill the air with obnoxious music and laughter, that’s when Bruce slows his car’s cruising. 

A grand house with white and beige coloring is the source of the adolescents. The profane music vibrates his car, as a result, he frowns. Bruce parks and pulls his phone out. He dials the reason he’s here. It rings too long, this isn’t like the boy. He feels anger boil tight in his chest, so he tries again, still no answer. Bruce puffs out a low sigh as he sits back. He stares at his frowning reflection but then directs his eyes at the provocative teens dancing. Their tight outfits cling to their bodies as they devour each other’s faces. He doesn’t understand why his boy would want to come to such a party filled with degeneracy. 

Just as he’s thinking about him, he spots dark wavy hair talking to a tall blonde with a revealing dress and ridiculous black stilettos. He rolls down the window with no hesitation. “Dick Grayson!” He shouts at the unassuming boy. Almost immediately, the head turns in one quick swift motion, Dick squints and then grimaces. He smiles and waves at the pretty blonde before dashing for the car. Bruce unlocks the door and keeps his body facing forward.

The boy pries the door open with ease and collides his body with the seat. “Dude! What you just did back there was totally not cool!” Dick’s breathing is quick and he’s smiling despite his statement. “When you said you were going to a small ‘gathering with friends,’ you didn’t tell me it was actually a party.” Dick laughs at that and rests his soft head on Bruce’s shoulder. “I didn’t know either! My friend said we should go after studying and I didn’t see why not!” 

He shakes Dick’s head off of him. “Have you been drinking, Richard?” Dick giggles. “Uh oh, the birth name drop! I must be in big trouble!” With no conscious thought, Bruce slaps Dick hard in his face. He regrets it immediately but it had to be done. “What the..hell!” Dick hisses before trying to get out of the car. It’s locked, of course, but that doesn’t stop his attempts. 

“Maybe now you want to answer my question?” 

Dick sits up a bit straighter. “No, no Bruce! I did NOT drink any alcohol. I just have an adrenaline rush, okay? It feels good to be with people who let me have fun and live a little!” Dick goes back to slouching. 

“Do I restrict that?” 

Dick delivers a bitter laugh. “Let’s just go home, all right?” 

He did not have the right to be upset with him, Bruce thought. He was in the right, Dick is fifteen, he shouldn’t be hanging out with such despicable influences. He was so darling when he was younger, so very innocent and...passive. He knew Bruce was right, he knew Bruce would always be right. What was this tormenting source of this rebellion? 

XXX 

“I’m going to take a shower.” 

Bruce watches Dick climb the stairs, back hunched in a pitiful attempt at making Bruce feel bad for slapping him. 

He doesn’t. He knows he was right. 

Alfred’s yawning, rubbing his red-rimmed eyes. It’s only 10pm. Alfred’s getting old, soon it’ll just be Dick and himself. A part of him dreads that; Alfred's the only sensible one around here, but another part of himself feels elated at the possibilities. 

“Everything okay between you two?” Alfred asks amid gentle yawning. 

Bruce nods. Of course he does. 

“Yeah, Dick’s just being a teenager.” 

Alfred mirrors a nod and wishes him a good night. 

As they part upstairs, Bruce turns towards the direction of Dick’s room. 

He pushes the dark brown door open before stepping inside. 

He’s glad it isn’t locked this time. 

Dick’s room is the unadulterated essence of Dick himself. His walls are a dark azure, painted by Bruce himself, with various posters of movies, girls, space, anything and everything. 

There’s lights and candles scattered around his room, but it’s somehow still quite dark in the spacious area.

It smells like him in here. It’s an indescribable scent but recognizable and comforting.

The low hum of the water from the shower equally comforts Bruce as he eyes Dick’s phone, lying there so unattended. Quite uncharacteristic, he must admit, he guesses the boy’s actually really tired. 

The phone beeps and vibrates, this is enough incentive to get Bruce to pick up the device. 

“Hey Dick! So sorry you’re Dad’s such an ass but had fun with you anyway! ; )”

Bruce narrows his eyes at the juvenile message sent from someone named “Lola.” He reckons it’s the same blonde whore from the party. 

Bruce decides to look at what else they’ve been talking about. It starts off pretty tame; there’s light flirting, light banter, but then there’s a shift. 

Some texts from a couple of days ago contain Dick talking about what he would like to do with the Lola girl: take her out to movies, to parties, to the beach. But, there is also a description of what he would like to do to her once they were alone.

Bruce has never felt so sick and so betrayed. He wants to hit something again. He wants to hit Dick again. 

Seeing that smug little grin wiped from his face was so satisfying, but maybe he should hold out? 

Bruce sets the phone down and stares at the dark-colored carpet, waiting. Soon enough Dick comes out of the bathroom. He has a towel wrapped around his hair and waist, skin still quite wet. 

“Wha-What are you doing in here?” 

Bruce delivers a small smile. “Come here, robin.” That nickname hasn’t been used in a long time; Dick is visibly uncomfortable by the usage. 

“Uh, okay,” Dick’s tries to act like he’s not nervous but the fidgeting fingers give it away. 

He stands right in front of Bruce. 

Suddenly, Dick’s shoulders are broader, his stomach is toned but still soft. He really is growing up. 

Bruce’s fingers trail over Dick’s body, he flinches as the fingers explore his chest and stomach. Dick is hovering, wide blue eyes both lost and concentrated. 

“Want me to play with you?” 

Dick closes his gaping mouth before straightening his back. 

“Uhh, I-I don’t know…” 

Teenagers are so predictable, such deprived creatures. 

“Tell me if you do or else I won’t.” Bruce teasingly pulls his chilled fingers from Dick’s sticky skin.

“I guess I want you to - uh - play with me...” 

As he says that, Bruce is reminded of the suggestive messages he sent to that girl. Dick wanted to play adult, acting as if he knew how to pleasure a woman, as if he knew what he wanted for himself. Bruce thinks of Dick’s young age, he’s angry. He keeps his face stone solid though. 

“Lay down.” 

Dick hurries to pull the towel off his now dried hair before landing his back to the bed. 

He lays there perfectly still. He looks so beautiful when he’s not resisting, when he’s not trying to deny what’s between them. Maybe Bruce is thinking too hard about this. He decides to let go of some of this torturing inhibition for the time being. 

Bruce gently lays his much larger body on top of the delicate frame underneath him. Dick is a bit rigid, confused as to what he should do with his hands. Bruce could laugh if he wasn’t so disgusted. 

Eventually, Dick’s arms sling around his long back in an amorous embrace. Bruce decides to do the same, taking in some of Dick’s fresh scent. They lay like that for a little while before Bruce notices the tumescent warmth poking him timidly in his ribs. As if noticing Bruce was pondering the sensation, Dick hisses before thrusting forward into his side. There’s a mewl, a desperation for friction. 

“...please, Bruce.” 

He knows what Dick wants. He wants Bruce to temporally submit; he craves the feeling of Bruce wrapping his dexterous fingers around his prick until he comes within mere minutes of pumping. He wants Bruce to suck him with desire and need as if love was only best discovered by swallowing. 

But, Bruce wouldn’t do that, no, not tonight. He wants to make Dick feel the pain he’s felt upon discovering his lecherous desire towards that whore Lola. He might’ve already touched her, he thinks. At the party, maybe Dick slipped a finger in her loose slit. Dick is sucking on his neck now, begging Bruce to do anything for his teenage desire. 

Bruce lays there thinking instead. He feels himself grow hard as Dick rubs their heavily contrasting bodies together. He’s moaning and rutting; he’s going to finish soon. 

Did he kiss her? Maybe he kissed her while he fingered her cunt. Bruce retches at the thought. Why does he have to think about this so much? 

Immediately, Bruce feels his body vibrating. He didn’t even notice but now he’s beginning to instinctually thrust against Dick’s pelvis in a reflective motion. He’s doing it hard; the towel layer begins to recede as he pushes his cock against Dick’s. The pants are so tight, but he can’t stop. He wants to come for once, even if he has to force it, it’ll be his last anyway. 

Dick grabs Bruce’s face in surprise and kisses him. They weren’t supposed to kiss, it was the one rule they mutually agreed on. It brought up too many conflicting feelings. The warm, burning kisses make him almost regret his malcontent anger, but it’s just the boy’s way of manipulation. 

Dick tenses then drops his mouth to moan in alleviation. He orgasms on Bruce’s black slacks, poetic in a way. The white, translucent fluid keeps flowing as Dick’s body contracts. Bruce can’t help but admire the beauty in it all. He guesses, though, he won’t be able to come this time around either. 

He loves Dick, he really does, but the boy’s been drifting. He wants other people, he wants to experience the world without Bruce. He wonders if he even really knows who Dick is. 

Dick’s face is elated as he sleepily closes his eyes. 

“You worried me there for a minute, B. You weren’t moving.” Dick laughs at that. “I guess you’re just getting old…” 

Bruce has his arms placed at the level of Dick’s head, he’s watching him look up with those blue, doe-eyes. 

“Even though, we fight a lot, B. I still love you, okay?”

Bruce feels a pang in his gut, don’t be tempted, he reminds himself. Bruce’s fists clench as he remains leaning over Dick. Dick’s eyes grow worried as Bruce doesn’t move or speak. 

“Bruce? Are you okay? I know we’re not supposed to kiss and stuff like that, but I got caught up in the moment, okay?” 

Bruce still hovers, debating internally with himself. 

“Who is Lola, Dick?” 

Dick’s face drops within a second of asking the question. 

“L-Lola?” 

“Yes, Lola! Don’t bullshit me, Richard!” All that repressive anger is resurfacing quicker than Bruce intended. 

Dick attempts to sit up but Bruce’s large palm forces him back down. 

“Listen, Bruce! She’s just a friend. We joke around, hang around and stuff but nothing serious. She’s like eighteen anyway, it’s nothing serious!” 

Somehow, Dick proclaiming her age worsens his temper. 

“...you are such a juvenile liar, Dick…” 

In one swift movement, Bruce clasps his callous hands around Dick’s throat. The skin there is warm and soft, he squeezes indefinitely, testing his strength. Underneath, Dick is struggling, pushing and thrashing for air. 

A feeble attempt. 

Bruce is surprised though; Dick is fighting harder than he managed he could, being so small and thin. Bruce’s fingers began to burn from squeezing the sensitive skin, his bones crack a bit too but he doesn’t relinquish. 

He doesn’t want to kill him, no, he really doesn’t, but he does want to instill fear in the boy; teach him whose dominant. 

Dick thrashes a little more, digging his dull nails into Bruce’s bicep, blood is drawn. Dick’s knee manages to escape the pressure of Bruce’s thighs, enough to kick him in the groin, but Bruce only loosens his grip when Dick’s eyes roll into his skull. 

He lets go, his breathing is hurried and erratic, an obvious adrenaline rush.

He almost killed Dick, he almost took this boy’s life and for what reason? Petty jealousy. Bruce’s rationale returns as the blood pumping hormone falls, it’s so quick, he feels light-headed. 

Dick is coughing, gripping his red-lined throat. His face is so red it scares Bruce how discolored it is. Bruce reaches out and immediately Dick sits up furiously, screaming. 

“P-Please, don’t touch..don’t touch…” Dick’s voice is like sandpaper, rough and raw. He’s crying now, face wet with tears and snot. 

“Dick, please, that wasn’t me! I would never hurt you like that, baby. You know that, right?” 

Dick isn’t looking even looking at him, instead he’s eyeing the door. It’s obvious what he’s wanting to do, he wants to bolt. 

Bruce inches towards Dick, trying to placate the distressed figure. “Come on, baby. Let’s talk about what happened. There’s no need to bring anyone else into this, we were both at fault.” 

Bruce tests his boundaries by placing a gentle hand on Dick’s knee. There’s an obvious flinch, but he’s not moving. The sound of sniffling and coughing fills the room as Dick frowns and whimpers at Bruce’s presence. 

“There you go, baby,” Bruce coos, stroking the skin underneath his palm. “See, I’m not hurting you, let’s just talk…”

As Dick finally meets Bruce’s eyes, he think he has him, he thinks the boy’s finally realizing that wasn’t Bruce who acted. But, then that changes when he hears a piercing yell. 

“Alfred! Please, Alfred! Help me! Help me!” 

Bruce rushes in to place his hand over Dick’s mouth. “How dare you try to bring him into this!” 

In response, Dick bites him, making Bruce both curse and frown deeply. Bruce fists his hand around Dick’s hair then swiftly tosses him to the ground. Dick falls to the ground with an abnormal amount of grace, but his wails remain and interrupt any imagery of the situation. 

A large foot is placed on the small of Dick’s back to keep him glued to the floor. Bruce didn’t know what else to do. Hitting the child wasn’t going to get him to listen, in fact he’d only fight back, but something had to be done. Bruce was not going to allow Dick to tell Alfred of this night nor was he going to allow him to tell the press.

“What am I going to do with you, Dick?”


End file.
